My Moon My Man
by JustThatOneChick
Summary: Every alpha werewolf needs to choose a mate. Derek has chosen, and he knows nothing about taking things slow. Derek/Stiles, pure Sterek fluff n smutt
1. Chapter 1

It was two in the morning, and Derek Hale was lying on the full-size spring mattress on the floor that he called a bed. He tossed and turned in the grey sheets, but he couldn't seem to fall asleep; no, he had too much to think about. It had only been a little under two weeks since he had killed his uncle and become alpha of Beacon Hills, and things were going a little differently than he thought they would.

As soon as he became alpha, he became more powerful, but he also had many more needs and responsibilities. For a proper pack, there was an alpha, a number of betas, omegas, and most importantly, the alphas mate: the alpha female. Once a werewolf becomes alpha, his or her wolf automatically starts looking for its mate. A werewolf's mate is chosen to be the best fit for and by both its human and its wolf side. A mate can be freely chosen, but once the choice is made, it is final; mates are for life.

Derek's wolf side has chosen. Derek's human side is freaking out. In his defense, there's a lot to be freaking out over, like: A) who his wolf has chosen, B) that he actually agrees with who his wolf has chosen, and C) that he has no idea how to tell his mate that he is in fact _his mate_. So here he is, tangled in his sheets in the early morning, trying to figure out how to woo a hyperactive, talkative, hormonal teenage boy, because he and his wolf are apparently either psychotic or stupid enough to have chosen the one and only Stiles Stilinksi to be their mate.

Derek had been fond of Stiles since they had first met, which is more than he would like to admit, so it wasn't much of a surprise that when he became alpha, his wolf chose stiles as a mate almost immediately. Derek's human side was a bit more reluctant to choose; after all, the last time he had decided to have an actual relationship with someone, his whole family was burned alive. It's not that he feels responsible for his family's death, but some part of him knows that he was still an accessory to their murder, even if he was unaware of it at the time.

Don't get him wrong, Derek has been in some purely sexual relationships before –it's not like he was going to give up sex just because he had put his dating life on hiatus –but nothing more. It's not like he ever met any women (or men) who he wanted to have a relationship with anyway, though. When he was in New York, everyone that took an interest in him always seemed to be thinking some idiotic crap like 'oh, he has such a tortured soul, and I want to be the one to save him and bring him out of his darkness' which Derek found outrageous; he's not the love interest in a badly made teen drama, and he's not a helpless kicked puppy that needs coddling.

So, making the choice to pretty much choose the one person that he will spend the rest of his life with was pretty tough. And it's not like Derek had really taken the time to figure out exactly how he felt about Stiles; before his wolf chose the kid to be his mate, he never had much of a reason to. So, he had taken his sweet time to think, he took a worn and crumpled copy of his old 'wanted by police' poster (Stiles said he needed one as a memento), and wrote down a list of all things Stiles on the blank side.

Stiles is smart; much smarter than most people give him credit for

He has a problem with giving into impulse even when he knows it's not a smart one

He has severe ADHD which pretty much explains most of his behavior.

He never shuts up

He's one of the bravest people I know

Stiles is difficult

Very observant

He's awkward

Fiercely loyal

Stiles can challenge me in many more ways than one

He will stand up to me if he needs to, and he won't stop until he knows I've heard what he has to say.

Stiles knows that he's human and that if I felt like it, I could kill him in a matter of seconds, but he always goes through with speaking his mind(even if it is an ADHD impulse) and always comes back to do it again, even if he knows it will end in threats and possibly a minor injury.

After Derek looked over the list he had made quite a few times, he realized: 'huh...I'm in love with Stiles,' and made his choice in mate final.

That same night, Stiles is at his desk, swiveling in his computer chair, and trying to figure out what the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with himself. He has pretty much gotten over the fact that werewolves exist, which, seriously, no sane person would get used to that this quickly, but no one has ever called Stiles sane –in fact, he's pretty damn sure he has been called various things that mean the exact _opposite _of sane. Stiles has pretty much demanded that Scott let him train him and teach him about is wolf, because somehow, Stiles knows how to be a better werewolf than his werewolf best friend; not that he would tell Scott that.

Scott isn't exactly the smartest of people –Stiles doesn't feel bad for thinking this because it's not an opinion, it's purely an observation –and the thing about stupid people is that they're too stupid to know that they're stupid. Not to say that Scott is stupid, he's just oblivious, and very, very ignorant. So, Stiles does the research, he figures out creative and effective training methods, and he helps Scott fill in the blanks. But the thing is, Stiles shouldn't have to fill in the blanks (again, it's not that he minds), Scott should get over the fact that there is no longer a cure, and go hug it out with his alpha. Not that Derek would actually hug anyone, much to Stiles' disappointment.

This brings him to the real reason he thinks he's gone off the deep end: Derek. You see, Stiles has this…_thing _for Derek. A very gay I-think-about-you-cumming-down-my-throat-when-I-masturbate kind of thing. Stiles honestly doesn't know why, and it freaks him the fuck out. Of course Derek has the sexiest, most god-like body that Stiles has ever seen, but Stiles is not gay. No, he has never thought this way about anyone of the male gender before, nor has he ever been attracted to one in any way –with the exception of Derek. Yeah, ok, Stiles can admit (to himself and ONLY himself) that he has been somewhat bi-curious.

He has found himself browsing some gay porn, but he has never found it to be something he can get off on. It's not that he thinks its gross, far from it, but he just doesn't find the guys in the video to be orgasm-worthy; what _is_ orgasm-worthy is what they are doing. So, Stiles isn't attracted to men (besides Derek), but he IS attracted to the idea of gay sex. Especially gay sex acts that involve Derek Hale, he likes to think about those. But what really baffles Stiles is that he's not just attracted sexually. If it were only sexual attraction, he could have written it off as him being a horny teenager with raging hormones; but no, there just had to be feelings.

Stiles couldn't really tell what the feelings were at first; he had felt them before, or at least felt something similar, but not often, and not this strong. And then, to his complete and utter horror, Stiles realized: this is how he felt about Lydia Martin. And not only that, but he realized that he only _felt_ this for Lydia –felt, as in past tense –and it feels stronger with Derek, which is nothing short of terrifying. Stiles is in love with Derek Hale. Derek Hale, Mr. Sour Wolf Alpha, who is super aggressive, broody, stoic, mysterious, and as far as Stiles can tell, not gay. And trust him, he already looked it up and there is no book called "How to Be in Gay One-Sided Love with a Broody Werewolf". He'll just have to write it himself. So does he tell Scott? No, he does not, because that would be both incredibly awkward, and completely mortifying. "Hey, Scott, old buddy –I'm in love with Derek. You know, your male alpha who you still sort of despise. Cool? Cool." Yeah, Stiles doesn't think so.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles got out of bed in the morning around and it was a Saturday so school was not on the agenda. He took a shower, jacked off in said shower, got dressed, made himself a generous breakfast, and then he got in his jeep and started the engine. He was headed over to the burned up Hale estate to talk to Derek about Scott, and how they both need to get over themselves and be pack. Seeing Derek would also be a perk to his little trip. He drove down the dirt road that lead to the hale house, and parked his car in front of the porch. He saw Derek's Camaro parked by the side of the house, so he knew that he had to be here, or at least close. He walked up to the door and opened it, knocking would be useless, Derek knows he's here; he probably heard Stiles the moment his jeep started up the driveway. When he walks into the house he doesn't see Derek immediately, so he goes through the living room, and finally into the kitchen where he finds Derek.

Derek is in the doorway, or rather hanging onto the doorway and doing chin-ups with his back toward Stiles. Stiles, of course, takes full advantage of the fact that Derek can't see him, and makes a point of studying every way his muscles move as he pulls himself up over the doorframe, and again when he lowers himself back down, only to repeat the process again. He sees the thick black spirals of his tattoo move with his skin, how his shoulder blades come together slightly, and how he has two indents on his lower back that lead to his perfect, tight –

"Stiles," Derek says as he drops to his feet and turns to face his visitor, "do you want something?"

"Yes…yes I do." Stiles mindlessly replies, eyes scanning over Derek's chest. Realizing his mistake, he snaps his eyes up to meet those of a now-smirking Derek, and restates himself "you and Scott need to stop this little pissing contest that you both seem to be losing, and be pack."

Derek just loses the smirk and glares at Stiles for a moment. "First of all, there is no pissing contest, but if there was, I think we both know I would be winning. Secondly, I have nothing against Scott being pack, in fact, he already is. When he's done moping, he can come to me and we can start training."

"Seriously? That's it? Scotts already pack? Then Scott really needs to get his head out of his ass already. I mean, training a werewolf has proven to be a difficult, not to mention dangerous task for me." Stiles grunts as he is shoved against the wall.

"You have been training Scott?" Derek growls

"Uh...y-yes…is that a problem?"

"Of course it's a fucking problem, Stiles! Scott isn't in control; he could hurt you and have no idea what he's doing. God dammit, you can't get hurt!" His growl noticeably lessens toward the end, but his green eyes are still ringed with a glowing red as he stares intensely at Stiles. Stiles looks at Derek for a moment and visibly relaxes in Derek's hold before a small mischievous smile makes its way across his face.

"You care about me."

"Stiles…" Derek growls in warning

"Oh, come on! Admit it, you care about me!" Stiles says with a shit-eating grin

"Fine, I'll let you know exactly how much I care about you if you answer one question."

"Yeah, ok, fine." Stiles answers reluctantly, his smile fading into a quizzical expression "I answer yours and you answer mine."

Derek smiles wolfishly as he crowds Stiles even further into the wall, making their chests come together. He leans down a bit and brings his cheek to rest against Stiles' as he inhales deeply

"Tell me why I can smell arousal on you."

Stiles stiffens beneath him, and as Derek pulls back he smirks at the expression on Stiles' face. His face is paled, his eyes are wide and his jaw is clenched. When Derek raises his eyebrow, a deep blush starts to rise on Stiles' cheeks, and his lips part as his jaw unclenches, then come together as he closes his mouth again. After about 30 seconds of this, Stiles is apparently satisfied with the number of times he opened and closed his mouth, he seems to have come to his conclusion. He straightens his posture and narrows his eyes as he looks straight into Derek's.

"You smell my arousal because I am aroused, and you have a heightened sense of smell that allows you to notice the distinct rise in pheromones coming off of me, in the same way it does any other hormonal teenager."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know that, but if you wanted a different answer, you should have phrased your question differently. Your turn."

Derek glares at the teen before him, annoyed that he didn't get the kind of answer he wanted, then an amused grin played across his face as he realized that Stiles had found a way to answer the question while at the same time completely avoid it, and all without telling a single lie, because he knows that a lie wouldn't go undetected. And to top it off, he came up with it quickly; he was smart. Derek took a moment to revel in his choice of mate, and then answered the question.

He leaned in close and took Stiles' jaw in his hand, their lips no more than a centimeter apart as he spoke. "Yes, Stiles, I care about you." Is all he said before moving forward to close the small distance that kept him from the teen, and pressed their lips together. Stiles lips started moving against his without hesitation, and let out a small gasp as Derek's tongue ran across his lower lip. As soon as his lips parted, Derek's tongue was inside his mouth, tangling with his own, and Derek's hand that wasn't holding Stiles' jaw slid down to press into the small of his back. One of Stiles' hands was lightly fisted in Derek's hair, and the other was looped under Derek's arm and reaching up to grab his bare shoulder. The kiss wasn't slow, but it wasn't fast either. It was harsh and needy, while being soft and tender. Stiles thought the kiss was perfect, although he didn't exactly have anything to compare it to. Derek also thought the kiss was perfect, just like his mate was. Stiles was a little awkward, and inexperienced, but he was also eager, and it more than made up for it. This was Stiles' first kiss and Derek knew it; hell, Derek thrived on it. He loved the fact that he would be Stiles' first; first kiss, first love, first fuck, and every other first sexual experience that Derek planned to give him. He would be his first, and he would be his only.

Derek smiled when he pulled away, which left Stiles with a very dumb-struck look on his face, because, Derek Hale smiling? Stiles could hardly believe anything that was happening.

"Stiles, go home. I'll find you later." Because it was just like Derek to be vague.

The teen just nodded quickly before turning and walking out the door with a wide-eyed look.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles drives back home and once he's there, walks up to his room and plops down on his bed. It was probably the shock, but the whole way home, his mind has stayed pretty blank. But now, it's all coming back to him: Derek kissed him. Derek told him he cared about him, kissed him, and smiled, then told him to go home, and here he is. Stiles is trying to come to terms with what just happened.

It's not that what happened is bad, it's incredibly good actually, only very, very confusing. First there was the whole exercising in front of him thing, and then it's like Derek suddenly decided that he knew how to form actual sentences and converse like a (semi)normal person, as opposed to his usual on word yes or no answers or grunts when he can't be bothered to form the whole word. And then, of course, there was the kiss. Now, Stiles has never kissed anyone before, but he's pretty damn sure that Derek is some kind of expert kisser. He's obviously done it before, not that Stiles thinks Derek is some kind of kiss-whore, but it's not like he has to do much to get a girl to start sucking on his face with the way he looks, which is good for Derek, because if he had to actually talk to flirt, he would be a goddamn virgin. Which he's not; Stiles is sure of it. No sex-god can be a virgin, that just wouldn't make sense. Stiles is a virgin, but at least he's no longer a kissing virgin.

He doesn't mind that Derek is experienced and he's not, in fact, he likes it. A lot. Stiles plans to use Derek's experience to his full advantage; multiple times. Derek is more than likely incredible with sex and –wait...were they going to have sex? Were they going to do anything? Are they boyfriends? Are they just not-really-friends with benefits? Was the kiss more than a one-time thing? Does Derek even like him? And, yeah, he's reaching panic attack mode when –ok, now he remembers. Derek smiled, and now he can calm down.

It's all ok, because Derek smiled and honest-to-god smile and it was directed at him. It's the first time he has ever seen anything even close to that expression on Mr. Sour Wolf's face, and it wasn't at watching someone's pain or making kittens run in fear, no, he smiled at Stiles, and Stiles thinks it was beautiful. Now, if only he could find a way to read Derek's mind and figure out what the fuck is going on, because he has no fucking clue. So now he opens his bedroom window and waits, because Derek said he would find him later, whenever later is.

Stiles must have fallen asleep because he's looking at his alarm clock, and the big red numbers are saying its 4:00pm. Huh. He's ready to fall back asleep when he hears a small noise from over by his desk, when he turns, he sees-

"WHAT THE FUCK? JESUS, YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME!" Stiles yelled, in a totally manly way, he might add.

Derek just looks at him, usual scowl firmly in place

"Jesus didn't scare you, I did." And Stiles just isn't really sure what to say to that.

"Is there a reason you're here, Derek?"

"I said I would find you." As if that's an answer

"Let me clarify: why are you here, sitting in my desk chair, while I'm sleeping?"

"I was using your computer. And watching you sleep."

"Seriously? Because that's not creepy at all." Stiles scoffs, voice dripping with sarcasm

"You were drooling."

Stiles looks at his pillow and sees a small wet spot "yeah, ok, nice observation, Sherlock. So, why have you come to see me, sour wolf? What can I do ya for?" Stiles says after deciding to dismiss Derek's creepy sleep-watching. Because, let's be honest, Derek's a bit socially stunted, personal boundaries are like urban legends to him (he's heard stories about them, but he doesn't believe in such preposterous things).

"Scoot over, and take off your clothes." is all Derek says as he takes off leather jacket and grey tee shirt. Next are the shoes, and now Derek is fumbling with the button on his jeans, and –

"Wait! Derek…I uh...im not…we can't..." Stiles sputters

"We aren't having sex Stiles, take off your clothes." Because, sex and taking off clothes _totally_ don't go together.

"Then…what exactly _are_ we doing?"

"I want you to smell like me." And then the jeans are off, and Derek is standing there in nothing but skin-tight black briefs. It's the sexiest thing Stiles has ever seen. Ever. He can hardly believe this –whatever this is –is happening. It's probably why he lets Derek manhandle him out of his shirt and shoes, and his jeans are slipping off when, again –

"Wait! Derek...no...I...I have a uhmm..."

"A hard on? Yeah, I know." Derek says like it's the most obvious thing in the world

Stiles scoffs because his pants are suddenly not on his body and…really, Derek? Really?

"Derek! You can't just say things like that!"

"Like what? You mean like: I can smell your sweat and cum all over this bed?" Derek really is having fun with this.

"Y-YES!" Stiles squeaks. It's a very manly squeak.

"Or that someday –someday soon –it's also going to smell like _my _sweat and cum?" Derek grins wolfishly, and it's all teeth.

Stiles is so hard it hurts when Derek lies down beside him and presses his chest to Stiles back. Derek's arms are wrapped around him, their legs are tangled, and Stiles' head fits perfectly under Derek's chin. Everything is touching, and he means _everything_. And Derek has a massive _something_ pressing against his ass. And then he realizes: Derek isn't doing anything with that something. This doesn't actually feel sexual at all. This is...Derek is just completely wrapped around him, and _oh my god._

"Derek…are we _cuddling?_" Stiles can't even attempt to hide how big he's grinning. This is too good.

"Stiles, I swear to god, if you ever use that word again to describe what we're doing, I will maim you beyond recognition."

"Fine; but just for the record, I enjoy snuggling with you."

"Stiles…" it's a warning

"Canoodling?"

This time he only growls

"How about we call it non-cuddling?"

Derek just doesn't have it in him to keep arguing on this. "Fine, but if you ever say it in the presence of anyone other than me, both you, and the witnesses with be found killed in the woods by a shockingly brutal 'animal attack'. Now sleep."

Sleep comes easily.


	4. Chapter 4

Forgot to say earlier: I do not own Teen Wolf! (as you probably assumed)

Laidies and gentlemen, let the porn begin.

* * *

When Stiles wakes up, its pitch black outside and Derek is gone. He goes to rub his eyes from sleep when he feels something on his forehead. When he pulls the thing off, he realizes that it's a sticky-note, and it says "_Stiles, I'll be back later –D_". Because of course Derek would say his goodbye by pasting a note to his head, who wouldn't? Oh, that's right, normal people; normal people wouldn't.

Stiles isn't concerned with how un-normal Derek is right now, though, Stiles is concerned that he just woke up and is cock is already _so fucking hard_, and he's pretty sure he's never been so horny in his _life_. He reaches down to press the heel of his palm to his erection, and _damn_, he's instantly even harder, if it were possible. He arches into his own touch and gasps, because he can already feel precum soaking through the thin material of his boxers. He hooks his fingers in to the waistband and drags them down. When the elastic reaches past his groin, his cock springs loose and hits his stomach with a lewd slap. He fists his hand around his cock and thrusts into it with quick, sharp movements, but _he. Needs. more_. Stiles needs something inside him. He's never done that before, but god, right now he just fucking _needs it_.

He quickly repositions himself so he's on his knees with his face pressed to his mattress and his ass in the air. He puts three fingers in his mouth and gags himself to get them thickly coated with spit. When he removes his fingers from his mouth, he doesn't even bother clothing it, just lets the spit leak out of his mouth and create a wet spot on his sheets where his cheek is pressed. He reaches his hands back and rubs the pad of his wet middle finger around the tender skin of his virgin hole. Stiles moans as he massages his opening and gasps and squeezes his eyes shut as he pushes his fingertip inside. He remembers that you're supposed to relax yourself, so he takes a moment to adjust before pushing in even further. Stiles soon has his middle finger buried inside his asshole to the last knuckle, and it's weird. Like, really weird, and it kind of burns too. He curls his finger around until he finds that bundle of nerves, and cries out –because _godthisissofuckinggood-_ as he opens his eyes.

When he opens his eyes, he expects to see nothing but darkness, but instead, he sees two glowing red eyes in the darkness just outside his window. He knows who the eyes belong to, and he knows that they're watching him, but he has no idea what to do about it.

"Der –nghh.." Stiles chokes out as he once again brushes against his prostate. And then he stops moving, because Derek is slipping in through the window and taking a seat on his desk chair that is turned toward him, and Derek is_ watching him._ Stiles is on display with his ass in the air, his face pressed into his mattress, mouth slightly open with spit covering his cheek, his cock is dripping with precum, and he has a finger deep inside himself, and _Derek is watching him._

"Keep going." Is all Derek says with a rough, lust-ridden voice. It's not a request, it's a command.

Stiles is flushing with embarrassment, but obeys. He can't stop right now, it wouldn't matter the the freakin' apocalypse started, Stiles is too fucking hot to stop for anything. He starts moving his finger again, pulling and pushing it in and out, and when it's in as deep as it'll go, he curls it to try and find that incredible bundle of nerves. When he does he can't help but cry out Derek's name.

"Add another." Is Derek's second command.

"I...mm...I don't know if I can..." Stiles manages to get out. He's never done this before...he doesn't know if he can fit a second finger inside him.

"Now" Derek growls

Stiles shouldn't like being told what to do to himself, but _fuck_, he does. He knows that Derek is at least partially wolfed-out, but he also knows that Derek wouldn't hurt him, even if he disobeyed the command. Not that he's thinking of disobeying. It actually turns him on even more to know that the sight of him touching himself makes Derek lose a bit of control, and once he looks up into those half-lidded red eyes, there's no way he can say no.

He pulls out his finger and starts circling his entrance with not only his middle, but now his ring finger as well. He grunts and shuts his eyes as he pushes past the first ring of muscles and feels a slight burn as his hole is stretched by the intrusion. Stiles clenches his jaw and wills himself to relax, and then he feels Derek's rough thumb sweep across his cheek. He opens his eyes to see Derek hovering over him, only to close them again when Derek leans down and meets their lips in a kiss that Stiles would have to call 'Spiderman style'. It's hot. So hot that Stiles feels the need to suddenly push in the rest of his two fingers in until they can't go any deeper. Stiles gives in to that need, and as he does he gasps into Derek's mouth with a yell that seems to be consumed by the wolf.

Derek ends the kiss and moves until he is out of Stiles' eyesight, and Stiles is just too out of it at first to tell where he went. And then he feels warm puffs of air right next the the spot his fingers are shoved into, and he realizes that Derek is still watching, he's watching stiles fuck himself for the first time on his own fingers, and _he's so fucking close_. Stiles feels his muscles twitch around his fingers, and he automatically pulls them out and slams them back inside. His fingers are moving deep in and out of his hole faster and harder, and before he realizes it, he's pushing his ass out to meet the thrusts. He forces his fingers deep inside and curls them, and once he finds that spot, he's cumming and screaming Derek's name. _Fuck, _he's cumming _hard._ He's spasming around the base of his fingers, and his cock is spurting obscene amounts of hot, thick cum onto his stomach and mattress. When his orgasm dies down, his whole body goes limp, and he falls into his now-filthy sheets, fingers slipping out of his sensitive hole.

Derek manhandles stiles onto his back with his head on a pillow. When he finds the strength to look over, he sees Derek lying next to him and rubbing his cock through his briefs.

"Take them off." Stiles says, because it's his turn now.

Derek looks a little shocked at first, probably due to the fact that a lanky, human teenager just gave a command to a well-built alpha werewolf, but that expression quickly changes to an amused smirk as he pulls down the offending fabric of his boxers.

Stiles gapes when he sees Derek's cock. It's big –like, really big. And it's a lot thicker than two fingers. The whole shaft is flushed with a vein running across it, leading to the head, which is flushed red with drops of sheer white precum leaking out of the tiny slit. And fuck, is it beautiful. Derek reaches to Stiles and swipes a hand across his cum-covered stomach before retracting his hand and using it to grip his cock. And then _holy fuck_ stiles realized_ he's using my cum as lube. _If Stiles could find it in himself to make any sort of movement, he's damn sure he would be getting rock-hard right now. Stiles watches as Derek moves his fist around himself a few more times before he's cumming in white spurts that are streaking several lines up to his chest. There's not much stiles can do but moan as Derek calls out his name.

Derek pulls Stiles' naked body to his own and nuzzles into his neck as the boy pressed himself firmly against him.

"Non-cuddling again I see." Stiles states sleepily

"Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?" he answered mid-yawn

"Shut up and sleep."

Derek doesn't sleep, he just watches stiles. His mate. God, Derek can hardly believe that he has a _mate._ Stiles doesn't lay still or keep quiet when he's sleeping, which is no surprise. He keeps pressing himself further into Derek and repositioning himself and muttering incoherent sounds. Stiles wakes up not long after he fell asleep, he's slept for the better part of the day, and now it doesn't look like he'll be able to get back to dream-land. Stiles is still pretty out of it and drunk with sleep, so Derek figures it's a good time to ask him some questions, because Stiles' brain-to-mouth filter is turned off, and he'll give honest answers. Really honest.

"You awake?"

Stiles just grunts in response.

"Stiles, what do you want from me?"

The teen turns in Derek's arms until they are face to face, Stiles with a serious look across his.

"I wan you t'take me on dates. With food. 'n pick me flowers." Yep. Stiles is delirious right now, but Derek hasn't heard any upticks in his heartbeat, so he's not lying. He wants Derek to pick him flowers.

"Is that all?"

"Uh uh. No. wanna be yours. Wan you tuh fill me up with yer pups. Always." Derek's wolf grumbles in approval, which seems to wake stiles up. His eyes widen and his cheeks flush, no doubt coming to terms with what he just confessed.

"W-wait...i-I umm –"Derek cuts off his sputtering with a fierce kiss and fully wraps himself around stiles.

"Mine."

And Stiles doesn't argue.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day Stiles is trying not to drown in embarrassment at the fact that he told Derek Hale that he wanted to be filled with his pups _after _he fingered himself in front of him. Trying; not really succeeding. At least no one is home and he can eat away his emotions. That always works.

"A beef burrito a day keeps the mortification away…" Stiles muses to himself.

"Huh…never heard that one before."

"MOTHER OF PEARL! Seriously, do you get off on scaring me?"

Derek looks contemplative for a moment before –"yes."

"Should've known. Well, wolfie, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Stiles asks with a sigh.

And then there are a bunch of daisies shoved in his face. They are kind of floppy, and dirty, and still have a couple roots attached to them.

Derek is looking at him with a scowl –per usual- but he also looks a bit….dare Stiles say –awkward?

"You –wait, you got me _flowers?_" the teen asks incredulously.

"You said you wanted me to pick you flowers. So I did."

Stiles takes the daisies and moves to the sink while muttering to himself, "Badass Derek Hale picked me flowers...heh…"

"I'm also taking you out on a date, so get dressed."

And that's when it became painfully apparent to Stiles that he was only clad in a pair of Bat-Man boxers and a bath-robe. And Mr. Sour Wolf just asked him out on a date –could you even call that asking? No, more like telling him they were going on a date. "I…uhmm...yeahh…." he says before running up the stairs to his bedroom.

When Stiles gets dressed and comes back down the stairs, Derek is standing by the door, keys in hand, waiting for him. "You ready?" the wolf questions and Stiles just nods as they walk out the door. Once out the door, Derek ushers him to the passenger side of his Camaro, where he _opens the door for Stiles._

"Well, whadd'ya know, chivalry's not dead."

"Get in." and yeah, Stiles thinks that scowl might mean 'embarrassment'.

Once the car is moving Derek doesn't say a word. Uncomfortable with the silence, Stiles reaches up to turn the radio on. When he receives a hand-swat, and a blatant 'No.' from the sour wolf.

"So...uh…you planning on telling me where we're going?"

"A restaurant."

"…which one?" Stiles asks incredulously.

And then Derek parks the car in front of a little Italian bistro "this one."

When they walk in, Stiles is just giddy. He loves Italian food –well, he loves all food – and this looks to be pretty authentic. It's a fairly small place with brick walls that are covered in old pictures of Italy, and wooden tables with red and white plaid tablecloths –hell, even the waiters are Italian, the place must be family owned or something. Stiles must say, Hale done good. They take a seat at a table in the corner just as the waiter walks up.

"Buon giorno!" says the waiter.

"Hi! Umm..I would like the spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and a coke." Stiles orders before even looking at the menu, because every Italian restaurant has spaghetti and garlic bread.

"Buon giorno. Posso avere bruschetta, lasagna, e una cola?" and _oh my god –Derek speaks Italian._

"Si, altro?" the waiter questions.

"nient'altro, grazie." Replies Derek.

As the waiter turns and walks away, Stiles is just gaping in wonderment at Derek.

"You…you speak Italian….wait. What?"

"Yes, Stiles, I can speak a bit of Italian." Derek says, and you can almost hear the 'duh, Stiles, I just did'

"Whoa...cool...that, um, that's actually kinda hot…" the teen says rather sheepishly. "could you, you know, say something else?"

Derek sighs "Fine. Sei un idiota."

"Really? I don't have to speak Italian to know that you just called me an idiot." Stiles says with a scrunched up expression. "Say something else. That's actually true, might I add, I am SO not an idiot, far from it. I'm...I'm –FOOD!"

As the waiter sets down their orders. It looks delicious, and Stiles doesn't wait a second before forking his spaghetti in his mouth. Derek looks at Stiles hungrily (the way he should be looking at his lasagna), because he has pasta hanging halfway out of his mouth with sauce dripping down his chin, and he's moaning in an obscene way in delight of the foods taste. It shouldn't turn Derek on so much, but that's not to say that it doesn't.

"Tu, Stiles, ho il questo scopabile culo ho mai veduto." Derek says in a rough voice with his eyes fixed on Stiles'.

"What does, umm, what did you say?" Stiles asks, because he has no idea if it was good or bad, but he still can't help but swoon a little regardless.

"I said: You, Stiles, have the most fuckable ass I have ever seen."

Stiles looks wide-eyed and nearly chokes on a meatball.

"_Oh my god, Derek!_ We are in a _restaurant!"_ Stiles whisper-yells before adding with his regular-tone "But, umm..." he clears his throat, "thank you…I think. Yours is, uh, it's pretty great, too."

Derek just smirks before taking a bite from his food.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Stiles seriously needs to talk, because, you know, Stiles and quiet just don't really go together.

"So, how do you know Italian?"

"My grandfather was from Italy. He would teach me Latin so I could read the original werewolf mythology. From there, he decided that I needed to know more about just werewolf culture, and had me learn Italian as well… The thing is, he was a pretty crude old man, so I know mainly curses and insults."

"Huh, that's cool. My mom tried to give me more culture. She and my dad were both born in California and both a mix of a bunch of different ethnicities though, so she would just teach me about random cultures that she liked. After her 'lesson' she would always make food from whatever place we learned about." Stiles says, reminiscing about his mother –but he doesn't want to talk about that. Not now.

"Anyways, what's your favorite color?"

And then they make small talk, like in a normal date. At least, that's what Stiles thinks happens on a normal date…he hasn't exactly been on one before.

When they finish their food, Derek orders some chocolate Gelato for them to share, and –

"Holy fuck, Derek" Stiles moans, "This is the food of the gods." And proceeds to get another heaping spoonful. Derek is just glad he gets to watch him lick the spoon.

After Derek pays (even though Stiles wanted to split the check, because he is a man, and men can pay for their own food) he and Stiles start walking back to the car.

"Stiles, you uh, have a little –here, let me get it..." Derek says as he backs the teen into the door of the Camaro. He smoothes his thumb over Stiles' bottom lip before taking it back and licking the chocolate off that was now on his finger. There's arousal emitting off the boy, and Derek can see his pupils dilated, no doubt how his own have been all night. He leans in so there's merely inches between them. "Derek, are you sure you didn't miss a spot?" and that's all it takes for Derek to push his lips to Stiles', and this time the kiss is hungry, and Derek knows just how to move if he wants to turn it into something filthy.

Stiles is panting when they break the kiss. "You know, we should probably, like, get me home or something..."

"Yeah, sure." the wolf replies before opening the door for Stiles, again.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek walks Stiles to his door when they arrive at his house and they stand in the doorframe for a minute just looking at each other.

"So, do you want to, uh, come up or something?" the boy asks with a hopeful voice.

"Yes, I would like that."

Stiles just nods with a small smile and takes Derek's hand (which Derek's wolf is very pleased with) and leads him upstairs to his room. He closes the door behind him when –

"Stiles, we actually need to talk." Derek says, and he actually looks pained to say it.

"Good talk or bad talk?"

"Depends on how you take it."

"Oh, well, alrighty then. This is serious, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Stiles, it's serious."

"Okay…but I need to say something first." Stiles says, and then takes a deep breath. "So, I just need to say this and hope to god it doesn't completely freak you the fuck out. Yeah, so, I like you –like, a lot –and if we do this, which I totally think we should, I just need to know that you aren't gonna fuck with me. Figuratively I mean, we could totally work our way up to doing that in a literal way. I just –I don't let people know me, which is something you would know a lot about, and if I let you in I need to know that you aren't going to walk back out." And Stiles voice is small, and Derek can smell fear, but not in a 'scared-for-my-life' kind of way, but in a 'scared-you-wont-feel-the-same' kind of way.

"Stiles, I have already started letting you in, and to be honest, it scares the living shit out of me. I haven't had a relationship of any kind with anyone since the fire, and I don't have a damn clue how to do this, and –shit. You know what? Fuck this, and fuck taking this slow. I am in love with you, Stiles."

Stiles stiffens, because Derek Hale just said he was in love with him. Derek Hale is _in love_ with Stiles. This is crazy. This is way too soon. This is downright psychotic. This –this feels right.

"I-I love you too." He says in a small voice. He's never said that before, at least not like this. He's said it to his parents, to Scott, and to Lydia (but let's be honest, he didn't really mean it), but never like this, and it's never meant so much.

Derek kisses him. And it's soft, and its gentle, and its everything that can't be put into words. Derek pulls back and leans with his forehead resting against Stiles'.

"There's more." The older man states.

"More?"

"Yeah. I don't know how much you've read about this in your research, but Stiles, you're my mate."

"Isn't that just another name for werewolf boyfriend or something?"

"More than boyfriend…" damn, this is harder to say than he thought.

"How can it possibly be more than boyfriend? The only thing more than boyfriend is like fiancé or husband or –wait...what? Yeah, you need to explain this to me. Now. And very thoroughly."

"You should sit down." And Stiles does.

"Pretty much every alpha has a mate. Its someone who both the human and wolf side chooses as their equal. My wolf and I chose you. So, once I claim you, you will be the alpha female. It's pretty much the same thing for regular wolves, and –"

"So if I'm alpha female, then I'll be in control of even Scott. Cool –wait, wait, wait. Don't wolves mate for…for –"

"Life. Yes. Once a mate has been chosen, that's it. That's all there is. Once I claim you, you'll be mine and I'll be yours. Forever. And, fuck Stiles, it's you. It will always be you." Derek's voice is raw because these are words he never thought he's say. He never thought he's have anyone to say them to.

Stiles' eyes are on the floor and his face looks like a mix of completely happy and completely broken. His voice is hardly even a broken whisper when he speaks. "What can I give you? I have nothing, and you deserve everything." Because Stiles always disappoints people; at least that's what he thinks. It's not that he isn't self-confident, he is, but sometimes he just isn't enough for anyone. He wasn't enough for his dad after his mom died, he wasn't enough for Scott when Allison came along, and how the hell is he ever going to be enough for Derek?

Derek kneels down in front of Stiles and takes his the teens chin in his hand before moving him to meet his eyes. "Don't you get it? You are everything, and you are mine. I have everything." He says with a commanding voice, because Stiles needs to understand what he means.

"Then so do I." Stiles says, and its amazing to Derek how fast his mate can bounce back, because now the only thing Stiles is emitting is pure happiness, and contentment, and of course, lust.

"Now get over here and gimme some O' that werewolf lovin'." and Derek shakes his head but smiles as he sits on the bed, because Stiles is such a dork.

Stiles straddles himself across Derek's lap and smirks at the wolf's growl of approval. Derek lets his hands travel down Stiles' back and into the back pockets of his jeans, and Stiles lets out a small gasp before he decides to do the same, but the position is uncomfortable, so he settles for snaking his hands under Derek's shirt and palming his back. "Off" is all he says, and Derek must get it, because he's pulling his shirt over his head, then doing the same to Stiles'. The teen uses his grip on the man's back to pull himself into the wolf and eliciting a moan from the both of them as their half-hard cocks rub together through the layers of fabric between them. Derek firmly grabs the teen's ass with both hands and pushes his own hips forward to meet that of the teens.

Stiles leans his head on Derek's shoulder as he begins to grind into the man below him, and feels as Derek's and his own cocks grow hard with the friction.

"Fuck, Stiles. Do you even know how long I've been waiting to touch you? I've wanted to feel every single fucking inch of you since the day I met you in the woods."

"mmm tell me." Stiles mutters into his shoulders; because, damn, he wants to know. He _really _wants to know.

"I've been wanting to hear all the sounds I can make you make. I want to hear you beg for me. I want to hear you scream my name when every inch of my cock is inside your tight hole. I want to see the contrast of the red marks and bruises I leave on your smooth, creamy skin. I want to smell you when your covered in my scent, with my cum inside and all over you. I want everything, Stiles, I want to give you everything."

"I want it too, -nghh...I want you to have all of me." Is how he replies, because it's true; he does want all of it. He's also flushing in both embarrassment and arousal, because no one has ever touched him like this, and Derek's hands are so hot and rough as they move across him. And no one has ever spoken to him like this, _wanted him_ like this. He has never belonged to anybody, either, and nobody has ever belonged to him. Until now.

Stiles moves one of his hands from Derek's back and hooks it around his neck so he can get enough leverage to pull him into a deep kiss. Derek unbuttons Stiles' jeans and pulls down the zipper, just so they're loose enough that he can slide his hands into the back of them, past the teen's boxers, and palm the smooth, untouched skin of his ass. In fact, all of Stiles' skin is smooth, and all of it is untouched. Derek can hardly wait to change that. The boy lifts his hips off of Derek just long enough so he can pull down his jeans and boxers past his hips, and Derek is happy to help pull them off the rest of the way. Once the jeans are cast to the floor, Stiles is left naked and straddling Derek who is still in his jeans. He starts to fumble with the elders jeans, but his hands are pushed away as the wolf continues to grind into him.

The rough feel of the denim against his erection is almost too much, but he loves it. He loves how Derek is manhandling him, he hardly has any control in his movements, and it's all Derek deciding how hard and how fast he pulls and pushes Stiles into him. Stiles breaks their heated kiss to look down and sees how his dick is leaking precum onto Derek's bare skin, just below his navel, and _fuck its hot_. Stiles' hands move down to grab Derek's hips and move his thumbs along the two angled cuts that form the most delicious V shape. Stiles tries again, and this time the wolf lets him undo his jeans and pull his cock out of his briefs. Derek's member is heavy and hot in his hand, and he can't believe how soft, yet hard it feels.

"mmnn Dernnghh –Derek, I'm gonna...gonna" and that's all Stiles manages to choke out before he feels Derek's rouch, callused hand wrap around the girth of his leaking cock and start tugging with the pace of their grinding. Stiles is cumming all over Derek's hand and stomach after a few tugs, and is left shaking from the power of his orgasm as he hears Derek grow a low hum when he follows Stiles and streaks hot, thick cum on his mates abdomen. He looks up at the older man and sees that his pupils are fully dilated with only a sliver of red iris' surrounding them. He can't help but moan as the wolf brings his own hand up to his mouth and sucks on each finger, one-by-one, to taste every last drop of Stiles' cum. Once he's satisfied that his fingers are clean he pulls the teen into a slow, sloppy kiss, where Stiles finds it strangely hot that he can taste the bitter-sweet taste of his own cum on the werewolf's tongue.

They lay down onto the bed with Derek spooning non-cuddling his mate as he pretty much massages his come into Stiles' skin. When Stiles asked what the hell that was about, Derek just said he was making his scent stronger on him, so the teen just let him do it.

"So, Der, I was just wondering –"

"Wait, did you just call me Der?"

"Yeah, we're pretty much werewolf-engaged, so I get to have pet-names for you, Der-Bear." Stiles says a matter-of-factly.

"Fine, Schnookums McSweetie-pie, call me whatever you want."

Stiles just gives him the stink-eye.

"Anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, why did you and your wolf pick me as a mate? I mean, not that I'm not awesome and total mate-worthy material, because I am. But what were your reasons?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure about my wolf, it chose you almost immediately, but I uh...i made up a list of reasons."

"Care to share?"

Derek just sighs as he reaches into the pocked of his jeans and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he hands to Stiles. When he opens it, Stiles is confused, because, seriously, what the hell is this for?

"Umm Derek, no offense, but I already have like 3 copies of your wanted poster –hell, I even framed one…so I don't really need another one."

"Other side, Stiles." The wolf says, and the 'duh' is most definitely implied.

Stiles turns the paper around and then, _ooohhh, ok._ Because there's a list written on the back of it labeled "Stiles". He giggles, scoffs, and gives Derek looks that are sometimes fond, and sometimes menacing, but after he finishes reading it he pulls his wolf in for a chaste kiss and lays comfortable against him.

"I love you, Derek."

"I love you too, Stiles."

And Stiles smiles, because hearing that is never gonna get old.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello everybody! I just wanted to give a thank you to everyone who has been reading this, and double thanks to all the people who have left reviews! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter :)

* * *

Derek wakes up in the morning with the warm body of his mate pressed against his side –he thinks it's a damn good way to wake up. He watches Stiles sleep in his arms, listens to the steady flow of his breathing, and takes in his irresistible scent, and he wishes he could lay here for the next two days –but he can't; or at least Stiles cant. Derek looks over at Stiles' clock and sees that the alarm would be going off in fifteen minutes, so he turns it off. He can think of a better way to start off the teen's morning.

Stiles is a heavy sleeper, so it's not hard for Derek to dislodge him and move him so he's lying on his back. Derek carefully straddles the boys' knees and reaches down to where he can run his fingertips along Stiles' thighs. The teen's heart rate picks up slightly, but Derek can tell by his regular breathing that he's still asleep, so he moves to start taking off the boys boxers. Derek doesn't want to waste time trying to maneuver Stiles out of his boxers, so instead he elongates his claws and makes precise rips to them that allow him to easily pull the shreds of fabric off the boy's body.

Once he is lying sleeping and naked beneath him, Derek takes a minute to marvel over the sight of the boy. _His _boy. Stiles is beautiful; fair, smooth skin marked with small freckles and moles, everything is soft to the touch –_he just wants to touch._ So he does. He takes his time in memorizing the curve of those hips; the way they cut leading down to that wonderfully flushed cock that's jutting up from in between his thighs to lie hard against his abdomen. Derek can hear Stiles' breath start to slightly shudder, signaling that he's on the verge of waking up, so the wolf leans his head down until he's exhaling hot breaths against the head of the teen's erection. The heat of Derek's close proximity causes Stiles to wake to a rather –unexpected surprise.

"Derek?" the boy asks, voice still hoarse with sleep.

"Good morning, Stiles." Derek grins, and then immediately takes Stiles into his mouth, licking his tongue in circles around the head.

"OH, FUCK!" Stiles half moans, half yells, because his _dick_ is currently inside some ones _mouth. Derek's _mouth. He just woke up in time for his first blowjob, and this is the _best morning ever. _It's –its –fucking _incredible. _Stiles didn't even know it was _possible_ to feel this good.

Derek smirks around the clock in his mouth and moves his lips further onto the shaft, watching Stiles' expression as it descends deeper into the heat of his mouth.

"Fuck –Derek...nnngh-"the teen gasps.

Derek lets out a small growl of approval of his mate's reaction, sending vibrations to go through the boys cock, eliciting a loud moan in response.

Derek starts moving his lips up and down the shaft, hands gripping the boy's hips and restricting his movement. He sucks the hardness deeper into his mouth until there are only a couple inches left to go. He changes the position slightly to get more comfortable atop of his boy, before taking everything inside, the tip rubbing against the back of his throat.

"mmnnn Der –so good..." the teen chokes out, reveling in this newfound sensation.

Derek sucks in long strokes from the tip until his nose is buried in Stiles' pubes, over and over again, his pace getting faster and harder the longer he goes. His lips are red and swollen from their work and covered in a layer of spit and precum. When Stiles looks down and sees his mate it's almost too much and it brings him right to the edge.

"I-Derek –I'm gonna..!" and at that Derek swallows the teen down, keeping his cock pressed deep in his throat and not letting up while Stiles cums, the thick, hot liquid coating his mouth, leaving him with a deliciously bitter taste on his tongue. When Stiles is coming down from his orgasm, Derek pulls off with a string of spit and come still connecting his lips to the head of the boys cock. Stiles hauls Derek up to him and slowly licks the man's lips, soothing the raw flesh with gentle swipes. Derek moves a bit lower to kiss the teens neck, sucking a deep-toned bruise on his pulse point.

"What was that for?"

"I thought you should have a good start to what will most likely be a very long day."

"…and what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you have to tell Scott today. He will no doubt smell me on you at school today."

"Well, fuck…cant it waits? I mean, Scott isn't even good at scenting yet, he might not even know what it is." Stiles says in a hopeful tone.

"Maybe, but he will definitely notice that hickey." Derek replies, an amused look in his eyes.

"..Huh?" Stiles leaps out of bed and into his bathroom to look in the mirror. "DEREK HALE! How am I supposed to cover this up? What if my dad sees it? Hmm? Everybody thinks I'm strait! How the fuck do I explain that I've suddenly gone gay for one person?"

"Calm down, Stiles, it'll be fine. Get ready and ill drive you to school."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? I don't give a shit what Scott thinks, he'll get over it. But my dad? I guess you don't remember, but he's the Sherriff and you are an ex-wanted fugitive!"

Derek wraps his arms around his mate from behind in a comforting hug. "Yeah, I'm aware, and he most likely will be freaked out at first, but he's your dad, he only wants you to be happy. When he realizes that that's all I want too, he'll come around."

Stiles relaxes into his mates arms, knowing that his words are true.

"Okay." Stiles says.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, it'll be okay."

* * *

Stiles gets ready for school, then comes down the stairs where Derek is waiting for him at the kitchen table. They eat breakfast and are almost ready to leave when Stiles runs back up stairs to get something. He opens his desk drawer and takes out his Adderal.

"Why do you need that stuff?" Derek asks from the doorway.

Stiles spins around to face the man. "Make some noise will ya? You're like a freakin' ninja!"

"Stiles –"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I take it for my ADHD. It helps me focus."

"Oh…what happens if you don't take it?"

"Well, first of all, I would get even more hyperactive and insane, but my brain is just like...really frustrating if I don't take it."

Derek just gives him an expectant look, wanting more of an explanation.

Stiles sighs. "Like, my brain just can't focus…or, it can focus in a way, but not on just one thing. It's like, I'll be trying to focus on a problem in school, but at the same time I'm focusing on the sounds of cars outside, or the girl tapping her pencil across the room, and I'm thinking about Scott and my dad and what I want for lunch and it all just jumbles up in my head until I don't know what the fuck is going on and I feel like I'm going insane. Adderal doesn't make it completely better, but it helps, therefore I take it."

"Wow…I didn't know it was like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I mean, sure, when it comes to getting my brilliant mind to get school work done it sucks, but it's not all bad."

"You know, that actually sounds a lot like what I went through when I first started turning. All my senses would be going off at once and I could hardly control it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Hey, let's go or you'll be late."

They head downstairs and Stiles starts a pot of coffee for when his dad gets home before they went out the door and got into Derek's Camaro.

"This is an awesome car." Stiles says when they are halfway to the high school, and Derek just smirks in response. "No, Seriously. When we start having sex –which we still need to talk about, by the way –we are going to do it everywhere in here. But most of all, on the hood of the car, because then I'll be able to marvel at its beauty, and see our reflection in that shiny paint job, and –" Stiles cuts himself off when he hears a low growl coming from the driver's seat.

Derek parks the car in the mostly-empty high school parking lot, and stares at his mate with full-blown pupils, knuckles turning white with his hard grip on the steering wheel. Stiles turns his body to face Derek, thinking '_note to self: talking about sex can and will rile up the wolf_', and opens his mouth to say something, but before any words can come out, Derek is unbuckling himself and straddling Stiles' thighs.

"Here? Now? Wait, somebody could see us –"and that's all Stiles gets out before Derek's lips are on his in a hard kiss. Stiles doesn't even try to say no after that, too engrossed in the feel of Derek sitting on top of him. Once they are full-on making out, Stiles moves his hands down to cup Derek's ass, kneading the jean clad flesh in his palms. He's moaning and Derek is growling lowly the whole time, tasting each other's mouths until –

"OH MY GOD!"

"Shit." Stiles curses, screwing his eyes shut as he opens the car door and pushes Derek and himself out of it.

"STILES! Oh my god, are you okay? He was attacking you! Why weren't you screaming?" Scott asks franticly.

"I _told you_ this would happen!" Stiles says venomously to Derek before turning his attention to his best friend. "I'm fine, Scott. Derek was not attacking me."

"What do you mean he wasn't attacking you? He was on top of you, for Christ sake! There are freaking bite marks on your neck, and –wait…"

"Is it all coming together, Scotty boy?" Derek muses.

"Derek, you shut your mouth, mister." Stiles scolds his mate. "Scott, there is no delicate way to put this, so…Derek and I are involved. As in, in a relationship, together, partners, mates. Comprende?"

"Wha –huh? But, Stiles, you're not even gay. Right? And...And you two hate each other. Derek, what did you do?"

"Calm down, Scott. I know this is…a lot. So, no, I'm not gay –well, only for Derek. Apparently we don't hate each other. I thought he hated me, and you thought I hated him, but it seems that's not the case. I know what you don't like Derek –"

"Don't like? It's his fault I'm like this! I'm-"

"Look, McCall," Derek cuts in. "I know you don't like me –I don't expect you to – but I'm with Stiles now, and always will be, so you might as well get used to it."

"Always…Stiles, what does he mean _always will be_?"

"Okay, so I don't know how much information you've taken away from my lessons, but alpha werewolves choose mates, just like wolves. Mates are of near-equal rank of the alpha, and are for life. Derek and I are mates, Scott; it's like being werewolf-married. Honestly, it's new to us too and we are still getting used to it." Stiles sighs, "Scott, you're my best friend, you always have been, and I really need you to try and be okay with this. I love you, man."

Scott's original anger has mostly dispersed by the end of Stiles' speech. "Yeah, man, I love you too, nothings gonna change that. I mean, this is still really, _really_ fucking weird, but I'll deal." Then he turns to Derek. "Derek, I don't care that you're alpha or that your way stronger than me –if you hurt Stiles, I _will_ find a way to kill you."

Derek nods in understanding, because even though Scott is stupid as fuck to talk to him like that, he has to respect that the kid would be willing to stand up for his friend.

Stiles gets a mischievous look on his face as he turns to Scott. "By the way, you might want to be careful when coming through the window. I mean, unless you want to see my cock in Derek's mouth."

"DUDE! What the actual _fuck _Stiles, GROSS!" Scott yells, looking back and forth from his best friend to his alpha, and –"wait...are you –"he looks to his best friend. "Stiles, is Derek Hale _blushing?" _Stiles just looks to his mate then nods like a bobble-head while cackling.

Derek swiftly slams his mate into the car and gives him a quick possessive kiss. "You'll pay for that later." He promises, and then gets into his car.

"Can't wait." Stiles responds eyeing the Camaro as Derek drives away from the school. "Scott! Yes, ok, time for class…yessiree..."

* * *

The school day was going by fairly normally, although he was getting quite a few questioning looks from people who saw all the hickies and bite marks on his neck –not that he was trying very hard to hide them. In fact, maybe he was showing them off –you know, just a little. The thing is, no one had ever given Stiles much of a second look, he was always pretty much _overlooked_ and nobody had ever shown much interest in him. Until now. Now he gets to wordlessly flaunt the fact that someone is _very much_ interested in him, and _very much_ into marking him up so everybody knows that he belongs to somebody. Yes, Stiles belongs to somebody now, and somebody belongs to _him. _Eat your heart out, Lydia Martin. Sure, him and Lydia were on better terms now, maybe even friends, but he was still going to rub it in her face that he had a super sexy fine-ass man at his side –because Stiles can be a smug bastard when he wants to be.

At lunch, Stiles gets a burger and fries from the cafeteria and meets up with Scott at their usual table, followed by Allison and Lydia. Stiles gives a quick 'hi' to them before devouring the food in front of him, ignoring the sets of eyes watching him.

Allison clears her throat to get Stiles' reaction, and when he doesn't react, Lydia kicks his foot from under the table.

"Hey! What was that for?" Stiles scoffs, swallowing a mouthful of food.

"Who is she?" Allison asks excitedly, and Scott is determined to focus on his food.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Stiles responds coyly.

"Come on, Stiles, who's the girl that pretty much had sex with your neck?" Lydia questions, and Stiles pretends he doesn't hear a self-pitying groan coming from his best friend.

"There is no girl."

The girls both give him a look that clearly conveys a sarcastic '_Oh, really.'_, but that look soon turns into a look of surprise and disbelief once they realize what Stiles is implying. "NO WAY!" Allison and Lydia both exclaim simultaneously. "Stiles! _Oh my god!_ Really? Okay, who is _he?"_

Stiles smirks. "Now we're getting somewhere. So, who is Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy, you ask?"

"_Tell us!_ Please?_"_

"Well, since you asked so nicely…my new personal sex god is Hale" Stiles grins triumphantly, "Derek Hale."

Lydia and Allison's jaws drop and their eyes widen. "No way. Uh-uh. I don't believe you. There is no _way_ that that man is gay." Lydia spits out.

"Yes way. And only for me, I might add."

"Seriously? You guys are actually dating –_and_ exclusive?" Lydia shakes her head. "I'll believe that when I see it." She challenges.

"Oh my god, no." Scott says, breaking his silence. "I had to see it this morning. Derek was all like on top of him in his Camaro, and –oh god, there were these _noises…"_

That just makes Allison and Lydia break out in a fit of giggles, both coming to terms with the truth of Stiles' words.

"Details, Stiles, we need details!" Allison demands, and at this, Scott just gets up and walks away, sending them into another round of laughter.

"He speaks Italian." Stiles says, hardly containing his excitement.

And they spend the rest of the period like that; with both girls leaning forward to hear everything Stiles says, like little kids sharing secrets at a sleepover –one of which Stiles has now been invited to have with both girls, since he is now apparently their best gay friend. Stiles can deal with that, because though he might not ever admit it to Scott, he's finding he really loves girl talk.


	8. Chapter 8

They have been going out now for a little over two weeks, and Stiles knows that it's all crazy and fast. He knows that people don't normally have sexual encounters until at least after the first date, and that you normally shouldn't say 'I love you' after only one date. He knows that it isn't exactly normal for a 17 year old and a 22 year old to be in a relationship, and that normally people do not go from kind-of-friends to pretty-much-engaged in such a short period of time. This is why it's a good thing that Stiles and Derek have never been classified as 'normal'.

Honestly, both of them should probably still be freaking out, but they really aren't. It's not that they don't think it's pretty strange, because it is. Their relationship is and most likely always will be fairly unorthodox, but it works. Somehow they _just work. _They just fit together in the strangest ways; what one of them lacks the other one has, they fill in the spaces that neither of them knew were empty. Neither of them are really scared of what they are because it's all mutual, they don't need to be afraid because they both know that they _literally_ belong together, because that's what mates are.

Now, even though they're mates, it's not like they suddenly just know everything about each other. Stiles still hasn't figured out what all of Derek's different glares and scowls mean, or which grunts mean 'yes' and which mean 'no'. Derek hasn't yet figured out how to keep Stiles still for over five minutes, or what the difference is between nervous babble and uncomfortable babble. Some things they are only going to be able to figure out with time –which is okay, seeing that they have the rest of their lives.

The thing is though, that even though Derek and Stiles are more than okay with what they are, it doesn't mean that everybody else will be. Like Stiles' dad, the sheriff. There's a chance he won't be okay with it, and yeah, Stiles doesn't really want to find out.

But apparently, it doesn't matter what Stiles wants.

"Stiles, you have to tell him." Derek says calmly.

"What? No I don't. He never has to find out –_ever._ It would be in your best interest, too. I mean, unless you have a hankering for a bullet in the thigh." The teen hissed.

"Your dad is not going to shoot me –well, maybe he will, but I can heal myself. It will be fine Stiles. He's going to find out sooner or later, anyways, so it might be better if he hears it from you first."

"Pshh how would he find out? Its...he-he won't know anything's going on. Nope. He won't notice a thing." Stiles reasons.

"Really? Because I can hear his patrol car coming down the street, and I'm pretty sure he'll notice me standing in his kitchen when he walks through the door."

"_You wouldn't."_ Stiles gaped.

"Oh, I would."

"…"

"…"

"_Fuck…_fine. Fine, fine, fine, I'll tell him! Just-just leave the room or...or something. Just don't be _here."_ Stiles said, voice nearing hysterics.

Derek smirked at winning the argument, and then headed upstairs into Stiles' room, hearing the teen mutter "that bastard..." under his breath before he closed the bedroom door.

Stiles sat down at the kitchen table as he heard his dad's car pull into the driveway. He was fidgeting with his fingers when he heard the front door open and slam shut, and kept his eyes fixed on the wood grain of the table as his dad entered the kitchen.

The sheriff knew there was something wrong with his son the moment he saw him sitting at the table. Stiles was nervously fidgeting and he wasn't talking at all –Stiles is _always_ talking.

"What did you do?" The sheriff asks exasperatedly, because this is Stiles, meaning that whatever it is can't be good.

"Me? What –I don't –whatever are you speaking of, father?" The teen said with faux surprise.

"Spill it Stiles, what's on your mind?"

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times trying to find the right words, and flailing his arms around in hand motions that he hopes will convey what he wants to get out.

"I –"Stiles cuts himself off. "I just..." and again. "Dad, I don't –"

The sheriff pulls out a chair and sits down across the table from his son. "Stiles, you can tell me, whatever it is."

"But…but you'll be mad…"

The sheriff sighs loudly. "I promise I won't be mad, son."

"Okay...dad…im-im –"

"Stiles…"

"GAY!" Stiles shouted, slapping his hand over his mouth as the word came out.

The sheriff's eyes go wide at his son's confession, then he breaks out in hysterical laughter.

"Dad! This isn't funny! I'm not kidding about this."

"I owe your mom twenty bucks." The sheriff chokes out through his laughter.

"…_what?"_

"When you were seven, your mom bet me twenty dollars that you would turn out gay."

"_Oh my god…_are you serious right now? That is so –so –" Stiles starts laughing along with his dad. "That is such a mom thing to do."

The sheriff stops chuckling and gets a serious look on his face. "Son, why would you think I could ever be mad at you for something like this?"

Stiles gets a scrunched-up look on his face and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "Heh...yeah, about that –"

"Stiles…" the sheriff says, accusatory tone creeping back into his voice.

"Ermm...okay, so...yeah…I maybe sort of…might have a boyfriend." Stiles says slowly.

The sheriff raises his eyebrow as a signal for his son to explain.

"There's a slight chance that you've met him before."

"…what exactly are you implying, Stiles?"

"You may have become acquainted with him at work…"

"Meaning?"

"Oh, umm…you know, he –he's quite familiar with the backseat of your patrol car…" Stiles says, feigning nonchalance as best he can manage.

"Who." The sheriff demands.

"You mean, like, his name? Yeah...umm...Derek."

"Derek who?"

"…Hale." The teen says carefully, flinching away as the name leaves his mouth.

The sheriff's eyes narrow in a burning glare that could put Derek to shame "Stiles…"

"WAIT! Wait, wait, wait. Okay, before you say _anything_, you should know that he's actually a really good guy –a bit emotionally stunted –but a good guy none the less. And I really like him. A lot. And keep in mind that he is an EX-wanted fugitive, as in his name has been cleared. Of all charges."

"Stiles…he's –Hale is…"

"He's what, dad?"

"He's older; five years your senior." The sheriff sighs.

"Yes, dad, I'm quite aware of that fact."

"And...And he's a sketchy guy. What do you even know about him?"

"DAD! You don't even know him, so you're one to talk! For your information he and I have known each other for months, and I know _plenty _about him." Stiles huffs.

The sheriff sighs and drags a hand across his face in exasperation. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

"Fine." The sheriff says reluctantly. "But only because I don't want to deal with your mood-swings and tantrums if I tell you that you can't date him. He's coming to dinner tonight, 7:30, and no excuses."

Stiles opens his mouth to argue, but stops when he sees his dad's warning look and nods his head in agreement instead.

"Okay kiddo, well I was just back to grab some files, so I'm headed back to the office. I'll see you –_and Derek –_when I get home from work. You're making dinner."

"'Kay dad, see you later!" Stiles yells after his dad as the sheriff walks out the front door.

* * *

The sheriff is…not surprised. Sure he wasn't exactly _expecting_ that conversation with his sonto happen exactly the way it did, but then again, he should really know better than to expect normalcy from Stiles. He definitely can't say that he's particularly happy that it's the Hale kid –no, _man_ –because lord knows they have only been acquainted in less than friendly situations. The only reason he didn't completely lose his shit when he found out is because he had his suspicions that his son was in a relationship, and from the lack of a female presence, he figured it might be a boy as well.

The thing is, for the past couple weeks, Stiles has been acting differently –in a good way. He's the sheriff after all; it's part of his job to pay attention to the details. Stiles has always been the type of kid who smiles, laughs, and jokes (no matter how awkward) a lot, but lately it's all been –lately it all seems genuine. He's not only smiling and laughing and making jokes to relieve tension or to comfort anyone, he's not doing it to fill silence and none of it seems forced. The past couple weeks, the sheriff has been catching his son smiling when he thinks no one is looking, just to himself and for himself, he laughs just for the sake of laughing, and he jokes for the sake of joking. The past couple weeks, Stiles has been happy, and that's something his boy hasn't really been since his mother died all that time ago. And apparently, the past couple weeks, Stiles has been dating Derek Hale.

He isn't even going to pretend that he understands it. Out of all the possible people, he doesn't understand why _Derek Hale_ makes his son happy. He's a broken man with no family who lives in the burnt out husk of his childhood home, but he makes Stiles happy, and if his son is happy, then being a father and threatening Derek Hale over dinner rolls is a small price to pay.

* * *

Hey guys, I hope you all liked the new chapter! I apologize for the lack of porny bits in this one, but there shall be much, much yummy goodness in the next. Sorry it took me a few weeks to get this up, i've been super duper busy lately. Anyways, the next chapter is in the makings -there shall be awkward dinner time conversation taking place -and it should be up in a couple days. thank you all for reading and leaving reviews, they are always flippin' awesome, so...yeah, there's that :) any input or suggestions/ideas are welcome.


	9. Chapter 9

Since I forgot to mention it earlier, the title of this story is after the song

My Moon My Man by Feist

* * *

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a long sigh, hoping that by some miracle when he opens his eyes it will all be over, and none of this will really be happening.

He opens his eyes, and –nope. It's all real. _Crap, I'm making dinner for my sheriff father and my ex-fugitive werewolf mate. _Stiles thought as he trudges up his stairs and into his bedroom.

Stiles walks straight up to his bed, completely ignoring the corner in which his boyfriend is lurking, and falls face-first into the comforter with a loud groan.

"This day needs to end." The teen says, voice muffled by his pillow.

"It won't be _that_ bad."

Stiles moves his face from the comfort of his pillow to turn and glare at Derek.

"Come on Stiles, its just dinner."

"Yeah, an incredibly awkward dinner."

"With you I think that's inevitable." Derek says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stiles scoffs.

"It means that something awkward is bound to happen in any situation where you're involved."

"Oh huh, you're one to talk Mr. I-don't-know-personal-boundaries."

"Hmmm..." Derek hums softly as he walks over to his mate, lying down on top of him on the bed, his chest on Stiles' back, "I know personal boundaries, I just don't use them around you." He murmurs into the back of Stiles' neck.

Stiles groans under Derek's weight.

"Besides," Derek starts, trailing his hand up the side of his mate's shirt, "I don't hear you complaining."

"Me? Complain about how my absurdly hot boyfriend can hardly keep his hands –_or paws –_off me? Yeah, I don't think so."

"Good." Derek breathes out. Derek lowers his mouth to hover over the back of Stiles' neck and lets his lips graze over the skin, then at Stiles' quiet muffled groan, he drops his lips to start kissing the nape.

Stiles can't hold back a small shudder when he feels Derek's teeth trail down to the side of his neck and nip lightly before beginning to suck a mark onto the sensitive skin. He can feel the slight prick of claws on his skin under his shirt as Derek drags his nails down Stiles' sides with a light pressure, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave red, slightly risen scratch marks.

Derek grabs onto the hem of Stiles' shirt and pulls it off as he rises to his knees, straddling Stiles' upper thighs. With his thumb, he slowly traces over the new scratches as well as the light bruises left from previous nights.

"_Fuck, _Stiles," he says in an awed whisper, "It's so easy for me to mark you; show everyone who you belong to."

Stiles lets out a low groan, pushing his hips up slightly. "You. I belong to you."

Derek hums in approval, and drags his thumbs down to settle into the indents of Stiles' lower back. He leans down to kiss Stiles' upper back, then trails his tongue along the boys protruding shoulder blades. He leaves open-mouthed kisses leading down to his lower back, then once he reaches the waistband of Stiles jeans he sits back again, but hooks two fingers into either side of his mate's jeans. He tugs them down slowly, maneuvering himself so he can remove them fully and cast them to the ground, leaving Stiles in nothing but a pair of briefs.

"Can I?" Derek asks as he slips his fingertips into the elastic of Stiles' briefs.

"What? Yeah, yes. Just -just _keep going."_ Stiles replies, pushing his hips up to further verify his point.

Derek smirks as he begins to pull at the elastic, sliding it down slowly, and revealing the smooth skin. He tosses the cotton material to the ground once he removes it from Stiles' body, taking a moment to admire the fully bare form beneath him. Stiles' ass is smooth and fair-skinned, just like the rest of him. There are a few small moles marking him, and Derek finds he especially likes the one placed right above Stiles' left ass cheek. He notices a light embarrassed flush spreading over Stiles' body, especially on his cheeks and the tips of his ears when he glances back to look at Derek.

Stiles breathes a frustrated whine as he tries to hide his face in the bedcovers. "Would you just _do something_ already? Please? You're just…_staring_…"

Derek reaches out with both hands to palm Stiles' ass, lightly squeezing at first, then kneading the flesh in his hands, causing it to start to redden. Derek Spreads Stiles ass apart with the heels of his palms, finally exposing his virgin hole. Stiles gasps and lets out a bitten-off cry as Derek moves a thumb onto his entrance, feeling incredibly exposed.

"So beautiful…" Derek murmurs, pressing his thumb against Stiles' pucker, loving the way the rings of muscles instinctively clench and quiver at the new sensation.

"_Fuck_ Derek," Stiles groans, hips stuttering.

Derek just looks, takes in every detail of Stiles' naked body. He's only seen Stiles naked once before, when he had walked in on Stiles masturbating, but that had been dark and so he couldn't see very well, but now…

Now he could see _everything._

Derek kneels, jean clad in between Stiles' bare thighs. He nudges Stiles' legs apart, then ducks his head down to nose the boys ass crack.

Stiles yelps at the obscene touch, "What're you…oh shit–" Stiles cheeks flush and the tips of his ears go red with embarrassment when he feels Derek's hot breath against his hole.

Derek mouths at Stiles' flushed asshole, poking his tongue out to press against it gently.

"Oh my…wait, are you seriou-_oh fuck, Derek"_ Stiles chokes out as he feels Derek's tongue pressing wet and hot against him.

Derek smirks against him, and _Stiles can fucking feel it._ He laves over Stiles, tasting the musky-sweet flavor of his mate, feeling his hole twitch under his tongue. He sweeps over Stiles' entrance more roughly, then pushes his tongue against hole, making the muscles relax against him. Derek points his tongue into Stiles, pushing it inside his clenching, pink asshole as far as it'll go. He licks his way into Stiles' body, tongue-fucking him thoroughly.

Stiles is making these whimpering mewling noises, and Derek can get enough. He loves the choked-off gasps and moans that are forced out of his mates body, and when Derek growls against him in pleasure, the vibrations just cause Stiles to get even louder.

"Nghh fuck, Derek…_shit_…could you –_ohfuck- _more _please –"Stiles_ whines, rutting against the mattress to get relief, unable to get a hand underneath himself.

Stiles cries out a broken moan when he feels one of Derek's fingers nudging against his entrance along with his tongue, Derek's free hand reaching down to rub himself through his jeans. Derek works his finger in slowly, the digit long and thick compared to Stiles' own, using only the thick spit coating Stiles' asshole as lubrication.

Stiles is reduced to non intelligible words, gasping as Derek works his finger and tongue in an out of him, easily finding Stiles' prostate and hitting it with every thrust. Stiles' hole clenching down onto Derek's finger and tongue every time the bundle of nerves is brushed.

Derek brings his forehead up to rest against the base of Stiles' spine, breathing hard as he rubs himself closer and closer to completion.

"Stiles!" he gasps out, stilling as he comes messily in his jeans, finger deep within his mate.

Hearing Derek call out his name pushes Stiles over the edge, cumming into his sheets, the hot fluid pooling against his abdomen as he clenches around the finger deep inside him, pressing hard against his prostate.

"Fuck…" Stiles breathes out, coming down from his orgasm and turning over onto his back. Derek groans, still lying in between Stiles' legs and reaches his arms around the boy's waist, head resting on his hip as he lazily licks up the mess of cum off of his mate's belly. Stiles moans in appreciation at the sight, but is too worn out to do anything more. Once Derek declares Stiles clean, he sheds his own clothes and cleans himself, then wraps himself protectively around Stiles in bed as they both fall asleep.

Derek groans awake at around six-forty-five at night, woken up by Stiles kicking him in his sleep. His mate is tossing and turning, mumbling incoherently and nuzzling his face into Derek's chest, drooling slightly on his pectoral. It's mainly endearing, but Derek would be lying if he said he enjoyed getting drooled on. He nudges Stiles' shoulder once lightly, then shaking him roughly when he remembers how much of a heavy sleeper Stiles is.

"Wha…?" Stiles mutters as he's startled awake.

"It's a quarter 'til seven. You're making dinner."

"Ugh, really? Why can't you make it?" He whines.

"Because guests don't do the cooking. I'll help though." Derek deadpans.

"Guest?" Stiles asks rhetorically as he rolls out of bed to get dressed. "More like hostage. There will be negotiations for sure, and my dad will probably shine a light in your face as he sits you down for questioning."

"Nothing I haven't done before." Derek retorts as he gets out of bed and starts to gather his discarded clothes.

"Yes, Derek, I'm sure he'll appreciate that you know how to properly go about an interrogation." Stiles deadpans while putting on his jeans and shirt.

Derek rolls his eyes at the comment and starts heading downstairs while pulling on his dark grey tee-shirt, thankfully a newer one that doesn't yet have rips, holes, and stains.

"Okay," Stiles starts from behind him as they enter the kitchen, "what should I cook?"

Derek just shrugs, and Stiles sighs at the oh so informative reply. He opens the fridge and starts rummaging around for whatever sounds good, glad that he remembered to go grocery shopping the day before. He takes out some stuff to make a salad (which his dad _will_ eat) along with some ingredients for pasta.

"Derek, boil some water, and then add the penne noodles. Please."

Derek obeys, getting a pot from the cupboard and putting it on the stove once it's filled with water. He watches as Stiles moves around the kitchen, not silently, but only muttering to himself as he puts out all the ingredients. He dices raw chicken and puts it in the wok, along with a jar of artichoke chunks, some heavy cream, and parmesan cheese, then cuts a couple strips of bacon into small pieces with kitchen shears and adds that too.

Derek takes the liberty of setting the table with plates, silverware, and napkins for three people as Stiles takes care of the food. When the time reaches seven-fifteen, Stiles is done making dinner and mixing the salad, and is now only waiting for the sauce to cool down enough to eat. Derek watches him as he continues to mumble to himself, only making out one in every five words, even with his wolf hearing. He's fidgeting with his hands, and keeps sitting down in his chair at the kitchen table, only to get up seconds after and pace for a minute, then sit back down again to repeat to process.

"Stiles." Derek says to get his mates attention, and failing.

"Stiles!" he tries again, this time getting to boy to abruptly face him with wide eyes. "Stiles, calm down. I can hear your heart racing from across the room."

"What? Of course it is, I'm freaking out! Are you not freaking out? How are you not freaking out right now!" Stiles exclaims, tossing his hands in the air.

"It's going to be fine, Stiles."

"How do you know? Huh? Since when are you the fucking oracle? What if he doesn't like you? What if he tries to forbid us from dating?"

"You're right, he probably won't like me. He's your dad and he's a cop, he's not going to be too keen on the idea of his underage son dating a man who's five years older, and who also happens to be an exonerated fugitive. However, he already knows all of this, and invited me to dinner anyways, where he will no doubt make some kind of threat toward me to keep you safe. He wouldn't do any of that if he was planning on forcing us to stop dating." Derek concludes, ending with a sigh.

"Fine. Good point." Stiles says. "Okay, what do we have, like ten minutes until he gets here?" Derek nods in affirmation. "Alrighty then. Rules. Pay attention. First up: body language. Greet him with a _firm_ handshake, and only shake once, that's what he considers a proper handshake. Oh, and look him in the eye when he's talking to you, but don't do that whole alpha stare-down thing, the sheriff is the alpha of this house –oh, stop growling and get over it, Sourwolf. Only call him sir or Mr. Stilinski unless he gives you permission to use his first name. Don't call him by sheriff. If you do, he will go into sheriff mode, and that's when things can get ugly, so just don't do it. And don't try to bullshit my dad, _he will know._ You know what? Just pretend that he is a superior alpha wolf, he can hear your lies and smell your fear, and he is protective of his pack. Which is me, by the way. And, -OH! Shit, that's his patrol car. PLACES! Meet him at the door, Derek! Go, go, go!"

Derek huffs and rolls his eyes in annoyance, but goes to the door anyways, opening it just as the sheriff –_Mr. Stilinski _got to the front steps.

"Mr. Hale," Mr. Stilinski greets, holding out a hand. "Sir." Derek replies with a curt nod, firmly giving his hand a single shake, and stepping aside in the doorway for the sheriff to enter his home.

"Smells good, Stiles." The man regards as he walks into the kitchen.

"Thanks dad. Hey, um, I guess I'll just, y'know, dish everybody up and stuff. Yeah, so just go sit down –you too, Derek –and I shall join you in uno momento…" Stiles says, waving the two of them to the table while spooning pasta, sauce, and salad (extra on his dads) onto each plate. He brings the dishes out and sets them in front of everyone before taking his own seat and pointedly ignoring how his dad and Derek are staring each other down. _I told him not to do that!_

"It looks great, Stiles." Derek says, finally breaking the silence, but still keeping eye contact with the sheriff.

Stiles smiles nervously and offers a quick thank you.

"I'll get the drinks." Mr. Stilinski says, getting up from the table and only looking away from Derek as he turns toward the fridge. He pops the cap off of a bottle of coke for Stiles and grabs himself a bottle of beer before pausing. "Beer, Derek?" he asks innocently.

"No, I'll stick with coke, thank you. I don't drink." He replies. The sheriff nods with a skeptical look, grabbing another coke and heading back to the table, setting down the drinks.

"Why is that?" Mr. Stilinski asks, "Do you have a former drinking problem?"

Stiles cringes, but Derek keeps a straight face as he answers. "No. I don't like the taste, and alcohol has virtually no effect on me due to a genetic mutation, so there is just really no appeal for me in drinking." And Stiles is actually kind of impressed with that answer; Derek managed not to lie at all, after all, werewolves can't get drunk.

"Huh," the sheriff says, eyeing Derek speculatively for any hint of a lie. When he doesn't see anything, he returns his attention back to his food and a tense silence falls upon the table, the only noises being the sounds of the silverware on plates and food being chewed quietly.

"So…" Stiles says when he can't take the lack of noise anymore, "Umm…So…" he repeats, not knowing what to say.

"So, Derek," Mr. Stilinski starts, "I can't help but find it just a tad odd that a man such as yourself ends up in a relationship with an underage, seventeen year old boy. Care to explain how exactly something like that happens?"

Derek ignores Stiles' agonized moan as he answers. "We met a few months ago when I started doing strength training with Scott, but it's not like either of us actually planned on any of this happening. I get that our relationship may be unorthodox in more ways than one, but honestly, it's just –we just work together."

Mr. Stilinski watches Derek closely, sizing him up. "Do you love my son?"

Derek locks eyes with Stiles. "Yes."

Stiles ducks his head with a wide grin.

"Stiles?"

"I-yeah, dad. Yeah, I love him."

"Okay." Mr. Stilinski says.

"Okay?" Stiles asks tentatively.

"Yeah, Stiles, okay."

"Oh, thank god," Stiles exclaims, "I thought you were going to, like, I don't know, threaten him or somethi –"

"I just haven't gotten there yet." The sheriff says, pointedly looking at Derek. "So, how about sex?"

"_Jesus Christ, dad!_ Are we –ohmigod, are we really talking about this?" Stiles groans, a mixture of exasperation and self pity.

"No, we have not had sex." Derek answers.

"Yet." Mr. Stilinski adds.

Derek cautiously nods once, "I figure we would wait until Stiles is eighteen."

"Mr. Hale, I assume that you and my son have already engaged in some degree of sexual interaction, and while I appreciate that you're willing to wait until Stiles is of age, that won't be for a number of months, and I know my son." The sheriff pauses to give Stiles a half-amused glare, "Which means I know that he can be quite persuasive, or even downright manipulative to get what he wants. Which, apparently, is you." He rubs a hand over his face and takes a swig of beer before continuing. "Look, I really, _really _don't want to know the details about my son's sex life, but there will be some ground rules. You will always use protection, no matter who's doing what –again, I don't want to know. There will be no sexual relations in under this roof while I am in the general vicinity. Oh, and Derek," the sheriff smirks, "if you stay the night, you get to make breakfast. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Derek nods in affirmation.

"Glad we had this talk." Mr. Stilinski says, getting up and putting his dishes in the sink, then patting Stiles' shoulder, who grumbles in response from his position face-down on the table, head resting on his arms. "Well, I pulled a double-shift, so I'm off to bed. It was nice to meet you, Derek, and –oh, I almost forgot. If you hurt my son, I will torture and maim you, and throw your lifeless body where it will never be found. Clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. I'll see both of you in the morning. I expect waffles, Mr. Hale." The sheriff says as he descends up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Well, considering you, this went better than expected, Sourwolf."

"Shut up, Stiles."

"I love you, too."

* * *

Hey guys, sorry this took so long to get up. My laptop crashed when i was almost done with the dinner scene (because i write my stories backwards, apparently) and I wasn't exactly jumping at the idea of writing the rest of the smutty scene on one of the computers at the public library, so...there's that. Anyways. It's longer than the usual chapter (hopefully more to love -eh?) and i hope you all like it. As always, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, because I may or may not (hint: i really, really do) get a bit giddy when i get a new review. just a bit.


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